Joy to the World, Indeed
by outtabreath
Summary: #1 in the Holidays Series. Luke and Lorelai celebrate Christmas in a their own special way.
1. Wrapping

This is the first in the Holiday Series. It was originally posted at the now-defunct Lukewarm and is still at Black, White, and Read.

Moosie and Miss Crabtree betaed this for me and did a fine job. Thanks ladies. Always.

Please be aware that this story is full of sex. Lots and lots of it. If that offends you, or you are too young to be reading, please close this now.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything except my sparkling personality and red hair (and even that is on loan from my hairdresser).

~~Joy to the World, Indeed by outtabreath~~

~December 11, 2004~  
~Wrapping~

"Did you buy me a Christmas gift?" I asked him fourteen days before Christmas.

He didn't even bother looking up, "Of course."

"What is it?"

He did look up at that, though only to frown his "Lorelai you are totally insane, and I can't believe I am dating you" frown. "I'm not telling you."

"Why not?"

"Um, because it's a Christmas gift. A surprise. You have to wait."

"You should tell me, you know. This is the most important gift you'll ever give me." He narrowed his eyes at that, but I pressed right along. "If it's really good, then you'll spend the rest of our lives trying to match it. If it sucks, I'll never trust you again and will spend the weeks before any gift-giving occasion mercilessly questioning you and leaving catalogues with pages folded down and pictures circled everywhere."

"I'm not telling you."

"Did you ask Rory for help?" I continued, utterly ignoring him. "'Cause that would've been a really good idea."

"Why bother? The lady at the Chat Shack said you'd love it," he said, dropping his eyes and smirking.

"Luke!" I shouted, pretending to be scandalized. I took a deep breath in preparation for my continued badgering.

"I'm not telling you. You need to wait like everyone else," he interrupted.

I sighed, "I'll tell you what I got you."

He looked up again. "I don't want to know. I can wait until Christmas."

I grinned back at that. A boyfriend to wake up with on Christmas morning. A warm glow started in my heart, and I focused on cutting a piece of paper to fit around a Candyland game. We were sitting at a card table in the living room of my very Christmasy house, busily wrapping presents for Toys for Tots. A fire was burning merrily in the fireplace, the lights dotting my tree (complete with dead celebrity ornaments) were twinkling cheerfully, and the candles were burning happily. The rooms smelled like fire and pine and sugar and cinnamon. I was deep in the Christmas spirit and contentment infused me. I began to hum along to the Christmas music emanating from my speakers. I looked up at Luke, only to find him frowning back at me.

"What?"

"Tell me again how I got conned into helping you wrap Bratz and Death Race 3000 for kids?"

"Because you told me about the power of the hair flip when combined with my black dress."

"Oh yeah," he sighed. "That."

"Besides, Toys for Tots is a good thing, and we're helping out."

"Yeah," he replied on another sigh. "Doing good works and all."

"The price tags all off?" I asked, still cutting paper.

"Yep. What next?"

"Wrap," I responded, leaning forward to push the cut paper closer to him, and giving him a nice peek down my red tank (seasonally emblazoned with "Santa's Girl" across the good parts). His jaw twitched in a most satisfying manner and I suddenly didn't care about doing good deeds, only dirty ones.

"Luke," I whispered, drawing his name out into several syllables.

"What?" he answered, keeping his eyes fastened on the table and paper in front of him.

"Do you like my new tank top?"

"It's fine," he said, clutching a piece of paper and crinkling it. He sighed heavily and reached for the tape with slightly trembling hand.

He was being so good. I needed to stop that immediately.

"Luke?"

"I'm wrapping gifts for kids, Lorelai," he chided, concentrating mightily on the piece of paper in front of him.

"I got a bearskin rug."

He raised his eyebrows but kept his eyes down. "You did? Never would've pegged you for someone who'd want dead animals decorating anything other than her feet."

"Nice," I shot back. "It's not a real one. I put it by the fireplace."

He was getting frustrated, I could tell. He was also struggling to control himself, and I couldn't begin to fathom why.

"Which gift is this for?" he asked, holding up a piece of paper with candy canes on it.

I tipped my head, stuck my left index finger in my mouth and began to twirl my hair with the right. "Um. I think a Bratz doll."

He grabbed one of the dolls and put it facedown on the paper and began to fold the sides up around it. "What's with the name? Bratz: the dolls who love fashion," he started ranting. "What are they teaching kids? That being a brat is a good thing? Have people just given up on making sure that the next generation is going to be anything more than out-of-control juvenile delinquents?"

"What are you doing?" I demanded, cutting off his rant. How the heck was he resisting me?

"What are you doing?" he questioned right back. "We need to get these gifts wrapped." He reached for the tape and the sides of the paper fell open.

"You need to hold the paper and tape it," I pointed out.

"I know," he grunted. "It's not that easy."

"Yes it is, hon," I said, more than a little put off that he was resisting me to wrap presents for children. I knew that I had conned him into helping me, but he could just ignore the gifts for an hour or two. He was fumbling with coordinating his movements. "Having a problem there?" I smirked.

"I'm better at unwrapping," he shot back.

"That you are," I responded, letting my voice drop to sultry.

His head snapped up, his fingers falling away from the gift. I smiled wickedly at him.

"Stop that," he demanded, "or none of these presents will get wrapped."

I held his eyes. "Can't have that, Luke. All those little kids waking up disappointed on Christmas morning because you're better at unwrapping then you are at wrapping."

"Lorelai," he cautioned, practically growling. Finally, I was getting a response. Then he ruined it by focusing on the present again. "Let's just get this done, okay?"

Time to try a new tack. I stood, noting that his eyes skimmed my body, right up to the letters that proclaimed me Santa's Girl. "I'll get us something to drink. You keep wrapping. We'll do ribbons later." I passed well out of his reach (and mine) and headed to the kitchen.

"We'll do ribbons later?" he muttered behind me. "Great. Can't wait for that."


	2. Still Wrapping

Disclaimers, etc. in chapter 1.

~Still Wrapping~

In the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil for hot chocolate, I carefully planned my next assault. So far, Luke was being very controlled and focused. That had to change fast. I paced and plotted, finally deciding that I'd liquor him up a bit.

Five minutes later, I went back to the living room and found that Luke had successfully wrapped four dolls and two videos, carefully attaching Post-its identifying their contents. He was regarding the small pile of gifts at his elbow proudly.

"Nice job," I praised, leaning over his shoulder to put his mug in front of him and affording him a nice, deep smell of my hair and pressure from my chest.

He gulped and grabbed the mug, taking a deep swallow. Immediately he began to choke. I started to pound his back.

"What the hell?" he shouted when he could talk again.

"Its just hot chocolate," I purred, my hand no longer pounding his back, but rubbing it in small circles.

"What are you trying to do?" he questioned, leaning forward and away from my magic hands.

"Shh," I murmured, pulling him back towards me and starting to rub his shoulders. "Wrapping presents — bad. Touching Luke — good."

"Lorelai," he sighed, "usually I would agree with you. I want to agree with you. I really, really want to agree with you. But I don't want to have to deal with this tomorrow or next week. If we can focus, we can get these done and get to other things."

"Or," I whispered, "we can focus on other things and I can do these tomorrow myself." I was skimming my hands down his chest, unbuttoning buttons and running my fingertips and nails along the ridges of the thermal shirt he had under his flannel.

"And have you complain that I didn't help you? No way." His voice went up on the final word.

I had nipped his ear. "I won't complain."

"Yes, you will." He pointed at the opposite side of the table. "You. Over there. Safe distance from me."

Defeated for the moment, I sashayed over to my chair. By the time I sat down, he was industriously wrapping a copy of Spiderman 2. "Aren't you going to drink your hot chocolate?" I asked innocently.

"Nope."

"Why not?"

"Because you added an entire bottle of alcohol to it."

"You are no fun," I pouted.

He grunted in response and placed the mug on the floor at his feet.

I sighed and began to tap my foot.

"Stop it."

"I can't concentrate, Luke."

"You volunteered to do this. I got dragged into it."

I huffed in annoyance and grabbed a remote-control car and savagely slammed it into the middle of the paper.

"You're going to break it."

I flicked my hands at him and began to look around the room. Then I saw it. The answer to my prayers.

I jumped to my feet and went to the tree and took down a candy cane. I turned to see Luke watching me closely. I sidled back to the table, sat down and slowly unwrapped the candy, keeping Luke's gaze firmly fixed on mine. As I opened my mouth in a little "O" and slid the stick into my mouth, Luke's eyes dropped. Certain that his attention was where I wanted it, I began sucking on the candy for all I was worth. His eyes went indigo as I began to work the cane in and out of my mouth.

He opened his mouth as if gasping for air, then said, very low and heavy, "Move the presents off the table."

"What?" I asked around the candy cane.

"Move. The. Gifts."

"Why?"

"Because in about thirty seconds, this table is going to go flying."

Success! I began pawing toys, paper and tape onto the floor. He tossed the table the instant the last toy was safe and was on me less than a second later.


	3. Unwrapping

Disclaimers, etc. in chapter 1.

~Unwrapping~

He pulled me to my feet, pressing his length against me, grinding into me. I grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him onto my mouth. Still kissing, I maneuvered him towards the fire. He pulled back to stare incredulously at the floor.

"You really did get a bearskin rug."

"It's not real and stop talking." I pulled his mouth back to mine and pushed the previously unbuttoned flannel off his shoulders. One hand was knotted in my hair and the other was massaging my ass. "Off," I mumbled into his mouth, unwilling to stop kissing him.

"Off what?" he mumbled right back.

"Shirt off."

My cute little tank went flying. Not quite what I had meant, but I wasn't arguing; this worked, too. He lowered his mouth to one nipple and my knees buckled. Making love to Luke was just not a standing-up activity. He supported my weight easily as he continued to move lips, tongue and teeth over my flushed skin.

"Down," I moaned.

His eyes met mine, twinkling evilly.

"Floor down," I clarified, letting my knees give so he could lower me to the rug I had thoughtfully placed in front of the fire earlier.

He hovered over me momentarily as together we yanked off the thermal, relishing that ever-amazing moment when we could come together skin-to-skin. He lay full-length over me, kissing me into oblivion, his hands simply cradling my face. This never changed, this slow and sensuous buildup; no matter what came before or after, Luke and I always needed this simple kissing.

But we needed other things, too. He was pressing into my hip, hard and strong, and I was suddenly reminded why we were on the floor in the first place. I surged up, trying to move him so I could get our pants off. He pressed down, sliding up onto his elbows so he could look at me.

"Can I help you?" he asked.

"You can take your pants off."

"But how would that help me?"

"Oh, it would help you. It would help you a lot."

"In that case," he began, losing the rest of the sentence to a gasp as I moved my hand between our bodies.

I allowed myself several moments of unadulterated groping, enjoying the feel of him through the denim. His eyes were clamped shut above me, his jaw rigid. I raised my head and kissed his chin.

"How about you lay down?" I suggested.

He rolled off me and onto his back. I stood and looked down at him, lit by firelight, and was stunned by a wave of emotion. Shaking my head, I moved back to the debris of our earlier project.

"Lorelai?"

I was back before he finished saying my name. "Just needed to get something." I held up a length of red ribbon.

"What's that for?"

"For decorating packages."

His eyes lit up; he thought he knew what I had planned. He was wrong.

I straddled him and kissed him silly, moving his unresisting hands so they were stretched out above his head. Swiftly, I looped the ribbon around his wrists, then around the leg of the small hassock near his head, attaching him securely. He made a sound deep in the back of his throat and moved his hips up into the vee of my legs. I moaned back, lowering my head to kiss him — pummeling his tongue with mine.

I shimmied out of my loose yoga pants then concentrated on Luke, running my nails up and down the sides of his torso. His eyes were glazed, and he was panting. "You okay there?" I asked.

"Fine," he was able to mutter, though it appeared that he was having a hard time getting enough oxygen into his lungs.

I trailed my fingers down to his jeans, unsnapping and unzipping them. I yanked his pants down and off and he surged up against me even as I took him, pulsing, into my hand.

"Hi, Ernie," I whispered.

Luke groaned and I tightened my hand around him; he flexed his hands helplessly. I know how much he wanted to touch me; the thought that I was in control was exhilarating and unbelievably arousing. I moved up, sliding my wetness over him. His breathing accelerated and I sunk down onto the length of him and held him, satin and steel, inside of me for long, agonizing moments before I began to move, slowly, excruciatingly, watching him for a response, waiting for him to open his mouth and gasp my name. Only then did I speed up, forcing us over the edge together.

I dropped forward, cuddling onto solid chest and fumbling to free Luke from the ribbon. He ran his freed hands up and down the length of my spine while I idly stroked his sweaty skin. We lay there for a long time, waiting for our heart rates to approach something like normal. Once he could move, he shifted me, and I ended up gathered into the curve of his body. He began to stroke my hair - the precursor to his falling asleep.

"Luke," I whispered.

"Hmmm?" he murmured huskily.

"What did you get me for Christmas?"


End file.
